


good girl

by y2kbunny



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Lady Bird (2017)
Genre: Angst, Catholic School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, High School, Romance, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/y2kbunny/pseuds/y2kbunny
Summary: Miri Ashevingne doesn't like Kyle Scheible. To her surprise, he doesn't like her, either. So why do they both feel the need to prove themselves to each other so badly?
Kudos: 23





	good girl

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys! i've been pretty obsessed w timothee chalamet recently, but since i almost always prefer writing characters to their actors, i decided to latch onto none other than kyle from lady bird, that skinny son of a bitch. i used one of my OCs in this story, but hey...if you wanna switch it out w y/n that's totally fine too LMFAO. thinking this fic will be short, but we'll see lol. i would appreciate it to the moon & back if you left a review/comment <3

Miri didn’t know why she disliked Kyle so much. Really, she didn’t. She wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe it was the beginning of their senior year, or maybe it was second semester junior year, or maybe it was as early as sophomore year when they were in the same English class with Mr. Miller. It didn’t matter -- she just didn’t like Kyle Scheible.

It wasn’t like he was blatantly disrespectful or anything, certainly nothing like the thick-skulled football players who shot spitballs in class or the bitchy girls who flipped off the nuns behind their backs. There wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy about Kyle that would make Miri’s feelings really justified. He was quite average, actually, if Miri was being completely honest. He obviously wasn’t the smartest student, but his grades certainly weren’t awful. He didn’t speak much in class, but it would be far from the truth to call him a loner. If anything, the only interesting thing about Kyle might have been the fact that he was so disgustingly indifferent to everything that it felt like a superiority complex.

That was probably what grated Miri’s gears so much. Although arguably he didn’t do much other than read his conspiracy books and shit on cellphones and sing for that try-hard band down at the Deuche, his energy was just...negative. Miri didn’t have to talk to him to know that. It was already clear to her, whenever she saw him sitting on top of his car and smoking a joint, that he thought he had the entire world figured out. He was cynical, indifferent, and blunt. The best way that Miri could describe it was that he thought he was so open-minded that he came off as close-minded and cared so little about being cool that he came off as pretentious.

“He’s not that bad,” Miri’s friend Caroline had offered once while Miri was trying to express the distaste she harbored towards the boy during lunchtime. There had been Mass earlier today, so all of the students were dressed in their formal uniforms. Currently, Miri was fidgeting with the collar of her sweater while Caroline was shaking a handful of sunflower seeds into her hand. “He just kind of has his own thing going on.”

Miri shrugged, absentmindedly extracting the last potato chip from her bag and breaking it apart into several tiny pieces. “I mean, I know he’s not awful. He’s just kind of…” A few feet away, Miri could see Kyle sitting at one of the lunch tables alone. He was smoking a cigarette and reading a thick book whose title Miri couldn’t make out -- knowing him, it was probably about some pyramid scheme or government conspiracy theory. The red tie all the male students had to wear for Mass hung loosely around his neck, standing out in stark contrast against the robin’s egg blue of his dress shirt. For some reason that Miri couldn’t explain, the look both wildly opposed his personality and suited him.

She looked away. “Don’t you just get the feeling he’s kind of pretentious? Like he thinks he’s so much better than everyone else?” Miri crumpled up the chip bag into a ball and attempted to toss it into the trash can. It missed.

Scoffing, Caroline leaned over, retrieved the empty bag from the ground, and deposited it successfully into the trash. “Sounds like someone I know.”

It took a while for Miri to register what her friend had said, and when she did, she made a little O-shape with her mouth before swatting Caroline on the arm. “I am not pretentious!” she gasped, although she found herself letting out a giggle in spite of herself. “You know I’m not.”

“I’m just kidding, I’m just kidding,” Caroline grinned, batting Miri’s hand away. “I know you’re not. You’re mainstream as hell.” When Miri opened her mouth to protest again, Caroline hurried on. “But what’s it to you that Kyle’s like that? It’s not like you ever talk.”

“Correction,” Miri said, raising a finger. From the corner of her eye, she could see Kyle stub out his cigarette onto the table, his eyes not leaving his book. “I would probably be a little bit more accommodating if we did talk. But we don’t. Not normally. Did I tell you about what happened yesterday?”

Now, Caroline looked intrigued. “What? No, you didn’t.”

“Then let me tell you,” Miri said. Her cheeks began to burn just thinking about it, but she forced herself to push on anyway. “You know how I TA for Ms. Larkin, right?” Caroline nodded. “Well, Mr. Miller was looking over the kids in detention yesterday. Larkin wanted me to go over to Miller’s classroom to drop off a bunch of papers for the detention kids to alphabetize. And guess who’s there? Kyle, obviously.”

“Oh, right,” Caroline piped up helpfully. “It’s because Sister Joan caught him smoking a cig in study hall.”

“Sounds like him,” Miri said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Anyway, I go to Miller’s room with this huge stack of papers, and he’s not there. Kyle’s the only person in the classroom, so I’m like, ‘Um, hi, do you know where Mr. Miller is?’ Keep in mind, I’m being friendly as hell, too. Then, this jerk just…”

She let out a shuddering sigh before shaking her head and resuming her story. “He goes, ‘Dude’s taking a leak in the bathroom.’ Eyes not leaving mine at all, and he has this weird, intense-ass gaze like he’s trying to stare me down or something. I’m kind of weirded out, but all I say is, ‘Oh, haha, okay, can you let him know Ms. Larkin sent me over to have the kids in detention alphabetize these papers?’” Miri took a deep breath, then delivered the last part in a whoosh. “Do you know what this douche says in response? He goes, ‘You know, for someone who’s a teacher’s pet, your skirt is hella fucking short.’”

“What?” Caroline blinked twice as if to process this information before letting out an abrupt, shocked gale of laughter. “No, he did _not_. You’re kidding.” When Miri smiled grimly in response, Caroline shook her head incredulously. “That is so messed up. What did you even say in response to that?”

“God, I couldn’t even believe it!” Miri began picking at a stray thread on her sleeve in a way that she hoped didn’t look too aggressive. “And mind you, I’ve, like, never talked to this guy in my life. I was like, ‘Excuse me?’ And he just shrugs and grabs the stack of papers from my hands and kind of makes this shooing gesture? Like I’m dismissed? It was so fucking condescending. I wanted to bite his head off.” Miri paused. “And my skirt isn’t even that short, especially not compared to some of the other girls’!”

Shooting a cursory glance at the boy in question, Caroline drummed her fingers against her chin. “Hm. Maybe he likes you or something.”

If Miri had been drinking something, she would have sprayed it all out in an Oscar-worthy spit take. “What?” she choked out. “You’re crazy, Caroline. I can tell when someone’s teasing to flirt, and when someone’s just being an asshole, period. He definitely falls in the latter category.” Right as Miri said that, the school bell sounded loudly, signaling the end of lunch.

Caroline shrugged, tossing the rest of the sunflower seeds from the packet into her mouth and swinging her backpack over her shoulder. “You never know,” she said, voice muffled around the seeds. “Some guys just are really weird when it comes to flirting.” She patted Miri comfortingly on the shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, love.”

Dejectedly, Miri raised a hand in goodbye and walked over to her next class. The last two periods came and went in a blur, and after calculus, which was Miri’s last class of the day, she headed over to Ms. Larkin’s room to get her TA assignments.

“Hi, Miri,” Ms. Larkin greeted when Miri entered the room. She was shuffling a couple of Scantrons around on her desk and jotting something down on a sticky note. Ms. Larkin was the new sophomore year English teacher: a wispy, blonde woman in her early thirties who, despite her genuine knack at analyzing British texts, was more well-known for her alleged romance with coworker Mr. Miller.

Mr. Miller, actually, had been the one to recommend Miri as a TA for Ms. Larkin. She’d had him as her teacher two years back, and she knew that he had always favored her during their time in English Lit. Secretly, she always wondered what Mr. Miller must have said to Ms. Larkin to land the TA spot. Maybe something along the lines of, “Oh, she’s a lovely writer. Also very, very poor. You should take her up as your teacher’s assistant so she can work off some of those financial aid hours.”

“Hi, Ms. Larkin,” Miri replied simply. “What do you have for me to do today?”

“Luckily, for you, not a lot,” Ms. Larkin said, briskly handing Miri the stack of Scantrons and English exams. “Mr. Miller was telling me about a particularly pesky senior who’s gotten detention for three days in a row now because he won’t quit smoking in class.” She folded her thin arms across her chest. “How awful. It kills your lungs, you know. Took my grandfather.” She sniffed contemptuously once, then continued hastily. “Anyway, Mr. Miller is convinced that the student’s going to quit finally after having to alphabetize and grade all these English exams. Or, at the very least, quit doing it in class.”

Miri found herself slightly clenching her jaw at the mention of Kyle but forced her mouth to work itself into a polite smile instead. “Right,” she answered, her head spinning. “I’ll go to Mr. Miller’s now.”

As Miri walked down the hallway to Mr. Miller in Room 20, she could not help but self-consciously tug at the hem of her skirt while she was getting there. She knew of course that she shouldn’t care what Kyle of all people had to say about her clothing choices, but at the same time, she wasn’t sure if she could face him, as wildly uncalled for as his comment might have been. _Besides, it’s not like it’s anywhere short enough to be commented on_ , she reminded herself. _...I think_.

Taking a deep breath, Miri pushed aside her nerves (all the while cursing herself inwardly for having such nerves) and opened the door. She was half praying that Mr. Miller would be in the classroom so he could just take the pile of tests from her and she could leave without a confrontation. To her dismay, it was just Kyle sitting in the second row, exactly as it had been yesterday. He was intently poring over the same book that he had been reading at lunch, which she could now read the title of – _A People’s History of the United States_. When Miri opened the door, though, he looked up from it disinterestedly. His expression didn’t change when he noticed that it was her, which somehow felt worse than if he’d had a negative reaction.

“So you’re here again,” Miri said curtly, holding the stack of tests to her chest like it was a shield, which, in a sense, she supposed it was. “Where’s Mr. Miller?”

“Went over to talk to Larkin just a second ago,” Kyle responded easily as if he’d been waiting for her to ask. He stretched back against the chair and ruffled a hand through his dark brown curls. In his other hand was a lit cigarette, which Miri found kind of stupid considering that was what had been getting him in detention in the first place. Upon closer inspection (and to her mild disgust), though, Miri realized that Kyle could actually be considered quite handsome had she not had such a poor initial perception of him. She watched as his eyes very briefly flitted down to Miri’s exposed legs. “Your skirt’s longer this time.”

Just like that, all thoughts of Kyle’s appearance blipped out of her head. Even though the glance was offhanded at most, Miri could not help but feel extremely vulnerable, her face now burning bright red. “Okay,” she burst out, slightly surprised that her reply came out that loudly, “is there a reason why you’re being such a dick to me? You don’t even know who I am.”

Kyle dog-eared the corner of his page before closing the book that he was so intently poring over. He looked at her fully now, and it might have been the first time that he’d made direct eye contact with her, or at least the first time that she could see his front profile in its entirety. The angular curve of his nose and the rigid slope of his jaw made him look like he was carved out of marble. His brows, which were dark and arched, were now knitted together in confusion. “What?” he breathed out simply, looking at Miri as if she were stupid. He was squinting at her disdainfully -- not too pronounced, though. He didn't care too much.

Although he had only uttered a single word, the undeniable condescension and exasperation that laced his tone made Miri half want to scream. She didn’t, though. She didn’t know who he was, what he was doing, and especially not why he was being such a prick. “What do you mean ‘what’?” she snapped back, hoping that it sounded more cold than shrill. “You don’t even know who I am, and you have the audacity to make these snide little comments about my skirt length, when I’ve been nothing but civil-”

“I know who you are,” he interrupted coolly, cutting her off mid-sentence. He was looking directly at her with those intense, soulful eyes. “I know who you are,” he repeated. “If that’s what you’re so riled up about. You’re Miri Ashevingne.”

“I…” Briefly, Miri was rendered at a loss for words. She surely didn’t expect indifferent stoner Kyle Scheible to know her name, or much less care. “What?” was all she could think to say.

He scoffed and shook his head slightly, before taking another drag from his cigarette and reopening his book to the dog-eared page. “Trust me, I don’t go around criticizing random girls’ skirt lengths. I know who you are. You TA for Larkin, write most of your papers on feminist shit, and you’re the only Buddhist in school.” He paused, then added, sounding more acknowledging than grudging, “That last part’s pretty tight.”

Miri furrowed her brows, holding the piles of exams even closer to her body now. “Huh. You know more than I thought you would.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said without skipping a beat. He still had that stoic, indiscernible look on his face. “I hear Miller raving about you all the time. Shit’s mad annoying.”

“So,” she started carefully, ignoring his snide comments and the fact that her mind was racing like crazy, “is that the problem that you have with me, then?”

“Huh?” He squinted, that mildly irritated expression on his face again. “I never said I have a problem with you,” he answered slowly, talking to her how one would a small child.

At this point, Miri was desperately hoping that this was some very strange prank because she felt like she was going to lose her mind with his roundabout way of speaking. As much as she wanted to scream at him, though, Miri forced herself to remain cool. “Well, to me, it definitely sounds like you have a lot of resentment towards someone who you’ve never even talked to. Not sure why, dude, but I’m hoping you resolve that inner issue.” She hoped that the last statement came off as half magnanimous, half intimidating.

Kyle cocked his head to the side, the tiniest hint of a smile quirking up the right corner of his lips. “You’re pissed as fuck.”

“What?” Mr. Miller _had_ to be talking his mouth off to Ms. Larkin because this conversation with Kyle was going on far longer than Miri would have liked.

Letting out a small sigh, Kyle kicked his feet up in the metal basket of the empty chair in front of him, angling his body so he could face Miri again. “You’re pissed,” he repeated, using that same, slow tone. “You’re used to being liked. Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes, right?” The name stung, but Kyle was continuing before she could even mention it. “Teachers adore you, most students get along with you. You get by, no problem.” He shrugged, puffing out a cloud of smoke from his lips. “Ever consider some people just don’t like you for the sake of not liking you?” At the last statement, he blew out another cloud and glanced back at her languidly.

Miri sucked in the inside of her cheek. Normally, if anybody had said this to her, she would’ve been distraught, but since it was Kyle Scheible, whom she didn’t even realize knew her and whose intentions were wildly unclear, she frankly just found it kind of surreal. Miri still felt very insulted, of course, but right now, the sheer shock was overtaking her anger. “Okay, sure,” she started. “I know not everybody’s going to like me. I’m just…” She shook her head. “You know what? I don’t care.”

“And I don’t care either,” Kyle replied, giving her that little half-smile again. “It’s not personal. I just don’t really like you. And I know you’ve never liked me either.”

“Huh?” It was Miri’s turn to be confused. She was still grappling with the fact that the weird anti-government kid had just directly told her to her face that he didn’t like her. “What do you mean?” As she started processing his words, though, she could feel her heart beginning to beat loudly against her chest. Was it _that_ obvious that she didn’t like him? How long had he known that she found his nonchalance unflattering, or-

Just like that, he was looking down at his book again. “I see the way you look at me,” he noted casually, as if he had read her mind. His tone was flippant as he turned to the next page. “You think I’m pretentious. Weird. A know-it-all, probably.” Miri wasn’t sure if she was showing any visible expression on her face, but internally, she was more than freaking out. For a split second, she wondered whether she might have accidentally said these things _out loud_ to him because they were so deadly accurate. “Which is fair enough, I guess,” he said, shrugging, “but take my word on this. I’m not saying I care. I’m just saying the feeling is reciprocated.”

Before Miri could even fully absorb the weight of his words, the door abruptly swung open, saving her from coming up with a proper response.

“Miri! It’s great to see you,” Mr. Miller crowed, his chipper voice sounding incredibly out of place given the tension in the room just moments prior. “Here, why don’t you set that stack down? Mr. Scheible’s going to have a lovely time grading those tests.” He handed Kyle a red ballpoint pen before turning back to Miri and playfully narrowing his eyes. “Did he give you a hard time?” he joked.

At that, Kyle looked up. There was the faintest of smirks playing on his lips as he awaited her response, and the expression on his face seemed to say, _Trust me, I couldn’t care less_.

“Nope,” Miri responded as she headed to the door. Smiling tightly, she looked straight at Kyle before readjusting her skirt so that it rolled up a slight inch or two. He stared back, once up, then down, the corner of his mouth flickering. “Not at all.”


End file.
